Forgetting
by Voldemort-Crazed
Summary: Forgetting - it is so human.


**A/N:** _Hello! Hope you like this! I got the idea for this one from my friend, Anja (__remadora-ftw)! To clarify, this is about Donna losing her memory. _

**Disclaimer: **_The Doctor doesn't belong to me. It's rather upsetting, you know._

* * *

I have never been in a place like this. I frown. I was somewhere else a minute ago, yet I cannot remember where I was. Since I cannot remember coming in either, I wonder if this is just another one of my dreams. I explore my surroundings. It does not take long to do so. I am in a empty plane, (as far as I can tell), and it is darker than I have ever seen before. But I can see myself, almost as though I am the light in the room. And then I feel it. The burning. My head is burning. I gasp and I touch my hair to make sure, but there is no fire there, and yet I can feel it happening.

The pain is there, but I feel more than pain. I feel myself thrown back as emotions, and memories that are not mine pour into me, to my very core, into my _soul._

I can feel my mind come to life. I can feel my brain working to it's full capacity. My ears are hearing things I never thought I could hear, my eyes seeing things I don't think I will ever forget. I feel myself cringe, as 900 years worth of information fills my mind.

The feeling is wonderful. Every part of me, every nerve ending in my body has come alive. I can do so much more than I thought I could ever do. I can see and hear things that I once thought I could never face: I see galaxies come alive and then I see them die, and new galaxies take their place. I see civilizations of people, rising and falling, and at their rise I always hear one name. At their fall, I hear the same name: A name that commands both respect and fear in the universe. A name that is always repeated, with both glory and hatred, but I cannot remember it.

I can hear their calls of distress, I can feel their anguish. I can see children crying, I can see people being slaughtered. I see so much more: I see the heart of the people, their greed, their hatred and I can feel nothing but pity for them. I can see myself too, and the small life I have lived, until now. How meaningless we all are! It kills me, the pain and the greed, and there is nothing I want more than to help.

The burning seems to have been inflamed even further after I realize this, what I see next helps it subside.

There is happiness too. I see worlds freed from slavery, civilizations saved from destruction, but there are few of them. And then, more than ever, despair fills me. It is not my despair, I know that. It is the despair of another person: a man. _Who?_ I cannot seem to remember. _Why can I not remember?_ And then I feel the wind coming.

It is strong, and I feel myself being whipped back, and I feel like I am in the eye of a storm. All around me, my thoughts, my memories! They are all flying away leaving me alone to grieve for someone I do not know. I cry out and try to grab at them, but they escape my hands as though they never existed, like tiny wisps of smoke.

The burning is worse than ever. I grab my head and fall to the floor in my pain. It will kill me, I am sure. I have never felt so weak in my life. So_ human_, he'd say. _Who?_ Who would say? What have I forgotten?

I try to scream for help, but no voice escapes me _Help me!_ I cry out. I know there is someone. Someone who can stop this. I scream at the walls, yet no sound leaves my mouth. I bang my fists at them, I try all I can, and yet the storm around me rages on. I try to escape, but every time I near the edges of the storm, I am pushed back. _Who can help me now?_ I wonder. And I know there is someone, but who? I can't remember anything.

_I want this to stop!_, I scream, in my thoughts. I can feel the winds slowing down, and one last thought whispers into my mind: the thought of him. I do not know who he is, or what he means to me, but I am sure of one thing: that I trust him beyond anything. And with that last thought, I feel myself drift away.

* * *

I wake up feeling bliss like I had never known before. I am on a bed, and the curtains are drawn so a fine ray of sunlight is streaming in through the windows, and illuminating the room before me. I can see that it is my room, with my name carved over the door, my messy writing table, and other various items strewn across the floor.

_I feel tired,_ that is my first thought after I am aware of my surroundings. I feel oddly at peace, unlike most mornings when I wake up. I go down and I see my family who, to my surprise, seem rather pleased I managed to make it downstairs. I feel that something is different, but I cannot quite place my finger at it.

Something is missing, I think, as I watch my family eat their breakfasts. They almost seem as though I have just returned home after a long while, but that is absurd. I remember that I was home yesterday, and I remember it perfectly. I remember exactly what I did yesterday, and I am sure I did not feel as uneasy as I do now. I don't know why, but only one thing is nagging me from the minute I woke: that there is someone or something that I care very much about that I am missing.

* * *

Walking down the street when I'm bored has always been a habit of mine. It often irked my Mother. Today, however, she did not object. Everyone is being nice to me, and I have no idea why. Perhaps it is a surprise, and I'll find out when I get back home.

My walk is the same as usual. I enjoy meeting people. I just walk around talking to my neighbors, and sending friendly smiles where I can. Sometimes the people stop and have a chat with me too. I like that. It makes me happy to make so many friends.

Our neighbor is a good friend of mine. He's old and grumpy - well to most people - but he is _my_ good friend. After I am done talking to him, I turn to leave, but instead I bump into someone. I turn around to say sorry to the man who I had accidentally bumped into, but when he looks at me, I see a flash of recognition in his dark brown eyes. He tells me it's alright, and then steps back to look at me almost as if with pride. _How strange_, I find myself thinking. He is strange indeed, tall, handsome, with a head full of messy hair, and wearing a blue pinstriped suit.

The man turns and walks away. I try to keep the strangeness of it out of my head, because I could not _possibly_ understand it anyway.

_So Human_, I find myself thinking, as I walk away, wondering where on _earth_ I had heard that phrase.

* * *

**A/N:** _Reviews/Criticism appreciated. Much love!_


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